Better Luck Next Time
by deangirl22
Summary: (Previously titled 'Try, Try Again'.) WhoLock mini-series. Moriarty and the Master are seeking world domination and besting their foes.
1. Chapter 1

Clara's hand soared across the chalkboard, erasing all trace of wording. Class was out for the day, and she had no immediate plans with the Doctor. At least, far as she knew; he did love to surprise her. Clara was debating what to bake for dinner, when she heard her PA Leonel clear his throat. "Yes?" Clara prompted without looking back.

"You have a visitor ma'am." Leonel replied, causing Clara to glance over her shoulder. Leonel was outlined in the doorway, his eyes tight in anxiety. Clara's eyes darted to a sharply-dressed stranger strolling into the room. His suit was tailor-made, a gray blazer and slacks with a white dress shirt. His dark eyes seemed to absorb Clara like a sponge, before shifting his gaze onto Leonel, who had begun to introduce him.

"I prefer to introduce myself _Leonel_." the stranger interrupted, his tone stuffy with a ring of politeness. _"Run along now."_ His voice rose, making him sound adolescent. Leonel glanced at Clara who had turned away from the chalkboard. She nodded and shrugged, curiosity beginning to eat at her. "Close the door behind you." the stranger ordered, stepping forward to approach Clara.

Watching as the stranger took long deliberate strides in her direction, Clara became fascinated by the light reflecting off his slick dark brown hair. "I know you don't I?" Clara asked, racking her memory. His face was very familiar, as was the smile twisting on his lips. It was not flirty or friendly, nor ominous, it was just a smile, fashioned onto his mouth as if it had come with the suit.

"You've seen my face in the papers." the stranger summarized, sounding bored as he came to a stop a foot away from her. "I'm James Moriarty."

"The criminal mastermind?" Clara blurted. Her remark transformed Moriarty's smile into a prideful grin. "You tried turning Sherlock Holmes into a fraud.." she remembered. Moriarty's smile faded altogether. "Thought you were dead." she finished, her heartbeat accelerating.

"Mm read that on Sherlock's blog? I know you follow it...awfully, _ordinary_ of you, Ms. Oswald." Moriarty responded, with the makings of a frown outlining his lips. Clara crossed her arms. "You're not ordinary, are you? No, you shouldn't pretend you are. I understand of course, it's far easier to blend in with the sheep than to declare yourself a wolf. "

"That what you are then? A wolf?" Clara asked.

"Would you like me to _hooowwlllll_?" Moriarty retorted, drawing the word out, his voice turning wispy. "Howl as your aid does for your affection? Clearly he was alarmed I'm a suitor. Were I one, it wouldn't have mattered, you've never even given him a passing thought."

"So if you're not here to woo me, why are you here?" Clara pressed, with a furrowed brow.

Moriarty smirked a bit. "Disappointed?" he questioned, allowing an awkward spout of silence to form between them. "You would be, if you heart didn't belong to another. Unconditionally, but even so." Moriarty mused, strolling over to her desk.

"You keep acting like you know me." Clara noted, observing as Moriarty ran his fingertips along the edge of her desk, surveying how flawless the wood was.

"I do know you, you're me. You and I could rule the world together." Moriarty replied

"...You are coming onto me, aren't you?" Clara wondered, bemusement shining in her dark eyes.

Moving around her desk, Moriarty cast a sideways glance at her, intrigue lining his irises. "I'm propositioning you for business, not pleasure." he announced, sinking into her chair as if he owned it.

"Oh? What business would that be?" Clara asked, leaning against the blackboard.

A bitter smile sprang to his lips."You ask, but you've already made up your mind. You're on the side of the angels, Ms. Oswald, just as I feared." Moriarty responded thoughtfully.

Clara opened her mouth to reply, but was startled by the door bursting open and an all-too familiar voice shouting. "STOP!" Clara flung her head back, her gaze immediately locking with the Doctor's. The Doctor was swiftly advancing towards her. "Hello! Rude of me charging in like this, I know. Very important I do however."

"Is it?" Moriarty mumbled. The Doctor's teal eyes shifted to his companion's visitor.

"Jim Moriarty, an impressionable name for an impressionable individual. I knew someone like you once, called himself the Master, brilliant but narcissistic - sound familiar? By the way, I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"Nevermind, not important. Come on Clara, time to go." the Doctor said, clasping his hand onto Clara's wrist and tugging her towards the door.

Moriarty rose from Clara's desk. "Sherlock put you up to this?" he called, with a tart grin.

"What's happening?" Clara asked softly, allowing herself to be led away.

"I'm preventing something from not happening." The Doctor answered quietly, keeping his gaze straightforward as they breezed out into the hall where the TARDIS awaited them.

"Doctor!" Clara protested. "No invisibility?"

"Invisibility, for what? School's out. Just you and your lovesick PA to account for, and right now he's in his car, sulking about the prospect of Moriarty being your suitor." the Doctor rambled earnestly, pushing through the TARDIS entrance.

"He is not lovesick..." Clara argued begrudgingly, scurrying inside as the Doctor released her. Clara's jaw jutted open, at the sight of Sherlock Holmes standing beside the control panel which the Doctor hurriedly toyed with.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, he's quite infatuated." Sherlock retorted. "Sherlock Holmes, pleasure to meet you Ms. Oswald."

"Clara, just Clara..." Clara murmured, slightly starstruck.

Sherlock gauged her expression. "Hm...she still reads my blog." he assessed, as the TARDIS lunged into transit. Clara couldn't help noticing Sherlock didn't sway, as his eyes remained glued to hers. He'd been on the TARDIS before, perhaps more than once.

"I told you, why do you never listen to me?" the Doctor haughtily replied.

"Do you really want an answer to that?" Sherlock rebutted, shooting him a shrewd glare.

"You know it was a rhetorical question." the Doctor said shortly with a leer of his own.

"Hard to be sure, half of the time you spout questions you desire an input for, the other half of the time you answer your own question." Sherlock replied.

"You do that too."

"On the contrary, I always know the answer."

"How long have you two been traveling together?" Clara asked, feeling stifled by the animosity emitting from them.

"Not long." the Doctor replied simultaneously as Sherlock who said. "Too long."

"Can you please tell me what's going on?" Clara pressed, her gaze darting back and forth from the Doctor to Sherlock.

Sherlock took the initiative. "It's not complicated, had the Doctor not interrupted you at the precise moment you would've mentioned weeping angels which Moriarty knows nothing about and though you wouldn't have gone into details then, you would've sparked his interest. This would've led Moriarty on a long varied path to breaching a crack in time, which would've had dire circumstances for Earth. The most dire of which being the Master unleashed, free to wreck havoc at Moriarty's side in an effort for world domination, which they would've been all too successful with - soon after turning their attention to the universe at large."

The Doctor clapped his hands, startling Clara and successfully causing Sherlock to pause and gawk. "But!" the Doctor began. "Everything's fine now – no Holmes, we are not telling her, not a word, don't you dare." he sternly warned, pointing a finger at him as the TARDIS whirled to a stop. Contempt shadowed Sherlock's face. Doctor left his perch at the TARDIS controls. "Here we are, 221B Baker Street. Off you pop Holmes." he dismissed.

A stare-off ensued between Sherlock and the Doctor. "As you wish." Sherlock stoically replied, heading for the exit. "Best of luck Clara. I daresay you'll need it." he added dryly, swinging through the door.

"Doctor..what aren't you telling me?" Clara said. The Doctor's face remained as immobile as marble. "It's about the Master isn't it? He's back...?"

"...Yes. There was always a chance, having saved Galiffery...but now I know for certain. The important thing is, he must never, NEVER cross paths with Moriarty." the Doctor said.

Clara nodded, then frowned. "You're leaving something out...what is it?" she pressed. The Doctor merely shook his head. "Doctor..Why did Moriarty come to see me?"

"It's not important." the Doctor said crisply, turning away from her to refigure the TARDIS. "Nothing to concern yourself with. Trust me."

Four taps in a quick session. Pause. Repeat.

Moriarty shrugged out of his blazer, draping it over his arm, as he sank into his comfort chair. He'd heard the drumming from the first time he shook the Master's hand, and even now, even after Sherlock and the Doctor had undone their plans, Moriarty could still hear it. His dark eyes combed over the living room, before settling onto the Master seated on the coach. _"They snatched Clara away."_ Moriarty announced, his features searing into a pout. The Master mirrored Moriarty's expression, then the duo smirked.

"Figures." The Master said simply, his fingertips drumming against the arm of the couch. "New face, same sentiments. Though Clara's different, he breached his own timeline for her. A special bond...that we can exploit, again and again and again..." he mused with a dark chuckle. "Isn't that right Oswin?" he called.

From the kitchen stepped forth Oswin, her long brown hair tied back in an arched ponytail, her delicate hands holding a tray of tea set for three. She was an exact replica of Clara, though her memories only extended as far as the Doctor's previous generation, when he had ran about in a blue pinstriped suit with converse sneakers. Oswin had been sucked into a timelock with the Master for an eon, and had fallen madly in love, or as close to it, as was possible for her.

"Mm-hmm.." Oswin hummed, in response to the Master's question. Setting the tray down on the coffee-table, she began pouring the tea. "Though to be honest, I'm looking forward to messing about Sherlock..."

"_You and I both honey-dear."_ Moriarty simpered.

A giggle bubbled on Oswin's lips. "It'll be far more interesting than murdering Clara and assuming her spot. Don't think I'd take much joy in that." she said, handing the Master his tea first.

The Master shook his head in disagreement. "On some level. Oswin, I know you did...even if you can't remember it." he told her.

Oswin remained mute, her dark eyes meshing with Moriarty's as he sipped his tea. The drums thundered through their skulls. Dumh-Dumh-Dumh-Dumh.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock's icy blue eyes frittered closed in annoyance. An irritable sigh made his Adam's apple bob, as he reclined in his desk chair. "John, must you continuously lurk over my shoulder? I find your silent disapproval distracting, I'd prefer you verbalize than to continuously stand there scowling." he announced, keeping his gaze glued to his laptop.

John stood three paces behind Sherlock, his arms folded."You're stalking her. Worse you've got Lestrade stalking her too. What's so special about this Clara Oswald? She has a clean slate, she's a teacher for God's sake! Why won't you tell me, what's going on?" he responded crossly.

"I told you, she's crucial to the case." Sherlock said, watching Clara inaudibly laugh at her favorite television program. Lestrade had agreed to surveillance, but a microphone was not part of the deal.

"What _case_? There is no case, you haven't interviewed anyone since last week!" John replied with a dry laugh as Sherlock leaned forward. Clara had abruptly retrieved her laptop, nestled beneath her throw pillow. His frosty blues darted to the current time, assessing if it was a commercial break. Likely, but her demeanor had changed from relaxed and content, to focused and determined. Clara was up to something, but John's constant nagging was starting to wear on Sherlock's nerves.

"MORIARTY." Sherlock said shortly. "Clara has a connection with Moriarty."

"Really? A school teacher is part of his operation?" John pressed dubiously.

"Part of a special side-project, that'll soon take center stage. The question is – when?" Sherlock replied, astutely surveying Clara. Three minutes passed, the commercial break was due to be ending and yet she hadn't so much as peeked at the television screen since she had fetched her laptop. Ideas began to spring into Sherlock's mind. Taxes? Too early in the season. Grading schoolwork? Usually preserved for her desk in the adjourning room. Facebook? Not a member. Twitter? Limited activity, which inferred that she had joined at the bequest of a friend she was too nice to refuse. John's continued rambling, drew Sherlock away from his racing thoughts.

"Oh come on Sherlock, you cannot sit there and expect me to believe the reason you've been obsessing over souffle girl is because she's in Moriarty's pocket!" John exclaimed in a baffled tone.

"Souffle girl?" Sherlock repeated, John's choice of words peaking his interest.

"Yeah...that's what Lestrade calls her." John mumbled, suddenly sounding self-conscious.

"Doubtful, I have the direct feed to her surveillance not him. Lestrade, like yourself, believes I'm wasting my time and has done little else but tail her, after I've excessively insisted. You called her souffle girl, indicating you've watched the feed in my absence, observed her cooking." Sherlock responded, cocking his head to look at John.

John's face was frozen a moment, remaining silent until his features buckled into a grimace. "Alright yes, I have." he admitted. A smirk surfaced on Sherlock's lips. "And you know what I've 'observed'? A twenty-something bachorlotte who surfs the web and bakes souffles, that's all."

Sherock's phone buzzed, signaling a text and his palm automatically hooked around it. -Clever birds are keen to the swarthiest of bird-watchers. JM- the text read.

The exact second that Sherlock shifted his gaze from his cellphone to his laptop, a window popped up on Sherlock's screen, emitting a live webcam shot of Clara staring directly at him. "Hello again Mr. Holmes...why am I being spied on?" she greeted, in a faintly friendly tone.

"How...?" John stammered.

"You'd be amazed at what I can do with a computer." Clara answered with a smirk in check.

A laugh whistled out of John's throat, but Sherlock was unimpressed. "Oswin." he greeted flatly, causing her to properly confused. "You really must work on your timing, had you hacked in 5 minutes earlier, we may have conversed before Moriarty sent this text and I'd still be theorizing as to whether or not you were Clara." Sherlock said, raising his cellphone so that it faced his laptop's screen. "Now I know. However had this not happened, your rouse still would've failed – care to know why? Clara's eyes gleamed upon meeting me, faithfully following my blog as she has, she was a bit starstruck. The enthusiasm on your lips, is undone by the lifelessness of your eyes, predetermined distaste disguised as annoyance from my intrusion into your – or should I say Clara's - home."

"...Well...you got me..." Oswin admitted, with traces of a smile.

Sherlock continued."I am a thorn in your side you must endure until your cohorts succeed, though I am curious Oswin, what did the Master do to carouse you into joining him? You're a replica of Clara, Clara loves the Doctor, inarguable by her willing sacrifice on Trenzalore, your very existence is a byproduct of her affection, such a strong emotion should be embedded into you. Why then would you swear to stand beside his rival?"

"..You wouldn't understand..." Oswin said softly, a curtain of sadness consuming her features.

"You remember don't you?" Sherlock replied, his words seeming with awe. "The Doctor claimed you couldn't, but it appears he was wrong. You remember, every encounter with the Doctor, each time you sacrificed yourself to save him without him being any the wiser. You're slighted. Being trapped with the Master presented you a perfect opportunity to spite the Doctor, best your origin, best Clara, you seized it uncaring of the consequences."

Oswin, who had crossed her arms during Sherlock's rambling, slowly uncrossed them as he finished speaking. She plucked at the elastic hair band around her wrist, looking down at it."There's one thing you have to ask yourself Sherlock - what do we gain from me as a distraction?" she questioned.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, as Oswin expectantly staring back at him, tied her hair back in a ponytail. "John put on the news." he requested, keeping his gaze glued on her.

"Needn't bother, nothing out of the ordinary." John replied flatly. His stoic remark, made Sherlock turn away from his laptop. John was smiling peculiarly, staring straight ahead. Sherlock rose from his seat, trying to assess why John's eerie demeanor felt so familiar.

"What have you done to him?" Sherlock asked Oswin lowly, his back turned to the laptop.

"Nothing." Oswin responded. "John is perfectly safe...home with his wife..."

"What?" Sherlock blurted, his attention swinging back to her. Oswin's face was blank, but there was a devious gleam to her dark eyes, the kind of gleam one possess when an inside joke is relayed.

"_Sher-looocckkk..."_ hummed John, in an out-of-character tone. Sherlock whipped around. John's idle eyes snapped onto Sherlock, and his paper-thin smile grew bold. "The Great Intelligence is sub-par." he said, his voice melding into Moriarty's drawl. John's face collapsed like an accordion, in it's space was an electronic void, a strange energy thumping from its center.

When Sherlock blinked, he found himself in his mind palace, in an white empty room with no doors. Sherlock glanced about, and his eyes settled onto the Doctor reclined in a comfort chair, the same color as the TARDIS. "They got you _good_ Holmes." the Doctor announced, in a tone that yielded he wasn't surprised in the least. "We assumed Torchwood obtained and/or destroyed everything from the Great Intelligence's soul-snatching ploy, but Torchwood isn't infallible...and Moriarty's reach is far and wide." the Doctor mused.

"How? If Oswin doesn't possess Clara's memories, how would he know to pursue the Great Intelligence's tech?" Sherlock countered.

"It's probable she caught a glimpse when the Master flooded Oswin's mind with her past incarnations. Oswin knows Clara sacrificed herself in an effort to cease the Great Intelligence's attempt on my life. She's smart enough to put two and two together, she's a shell of Clara afterall." the Doctor said with a nimble smile, that faded as quickly as it appeared. "Enough about Oswin and Clara, you're missing the bigger picture here Holmes."

"There were multiple bots, if the Master's re-figured them all to be as convincing as the John one, he could easily take over the world." Sherlock said.

"And you're powerless to stop it. You can't break free once you've merged with the network, the only way you'll be outed is if they let out you." the Doctor replied.

"That's unproven, no one's ever been aware of their predicament. I am." Sherlock argued.

The Doctor smirked as Sherlock drew in a deep breath and shut his eyes. "Doesn't matter Holmes.. unless Oswin has a change of heart, you are stuck here with me." the Doctor murmured.


	3. Chapter 3

Lestrade pulled his jacket closer to his frame, a cigarette twitching between his lips as he surveyed the schoolhouse. John Watson's voice issued from the phone against Lestrade's cheek, and though John's tone was casual, Lestrade suspected he was quite worried about their missing friend. "All I'm saying Lestrade, is that it isn't the first time Sherlock's disappeared...certainly won't be the last either. Besides what purpose does it serve to bring in this, Clara, for questioning? She wasn't our client..what makes you think she'd be connected? "

"Sherlock had his suspicions about her...Didn't he tell you?" Lestrade asked, checking his watch. By Lestrade's calculations, Clara should be stepping out to her unlicensed motorbike any moment now.

"No, not that I recall." John answered. "...Though that doesn't mean much. What does Mycoft make of this?"

Lestrade was silent a moment, torn between telling John the truth or keeping his vow of silence. "Mycoft has his sights on someone else." he carefully replied

"Who?" John wondered.

* * *

Mycoft scrutinized the Doctor with the same intense stare the Doctor was emitting onto him. However unlike Mycoft who had a sneer slicing at his lips, the Doctor welcomed their interaction. "I'm curious, what did Sherlock tell you about me?" the Doctor asked with a shadowy smile.

"Only that you'd be the one to answer the 'call' of that...device..." Mycoft answered, with a distasteful glance at the communication cube sitting on the table between them. Sherlock had also told Mycoft, the Doctor would arrive in a blue police box. Sipping his wine, Mycoft eyed the TARDIS sitting in his living room, wishing he had listened more and sneered less when Sherlock had confided in him.

The Doctor lifted the communication cube with both hands, brushing its sides with his thumbs. There were various nicks and laser burns, that had been absent before he had given it to Sherlock. "This your handiwork or his?" he asked, shifting his gaze to assess Mycoft. "Yours. Suppose I shouldn't be surprised, were I you, being a veteran MI6 and all, I'd have probably done the same...your brother's actions do inspire curiosity. The question is how much time has passed between Sherlock disappearing and this cube falling into your possession?" The Doctor held the cube with one hand then set it back down on the table.

"About a week." Mycoft said plainly.

"Strange he gave the cube to you and not Watson, any idea as to why?"

"Perhaps he feared the Mrs. would sell it."

The Doctor smirked. "No. When Sherlock gave this to you, he left explicit instructions on how to use it and the circumstances for which it need be used. Circumstances he would've wanted to spare Watson if possible. We both know you didn't summon me here to search for Sherlock, you summoned me because Moriarty and the Master, or as you know him - Harold Saxton, are at it again. Show me what I need to see Mycoft."

* * *

Hesitantly entering the interrogation room, Clara's eyes darted to the double-paned glass, partly anxious, partly intrigued, entirely confused. Frowning at the tape recorder, Clara asked. "Is this really necessary?"

"It's protocol Ms. Oswald. Now please take a seat." Lestrade answered, pulling a chair out for her. Clara sighed, crossing her arms as she sat. Lestrade took the seat opposite her and folded his hands. "What's your history with James Moriarty?" he asked astutely.

Clara's eyes narrowed slightly. "You said this was about Sherlock..." she murmured.

"It is. Shortly before he went missing, he was investigating you. Sherlock seemed convinced you were in league with Moriarty." Lestrade explained. Clara felt her heartbeat accelerate, musing over what Sherlock had relayed to her during their brief encounter. "Where is Moriarty keeping Sherlock?" Lestrade asked.

"I don't..." Clara began.

"Were you the one that helped Moriarty fake his death?" Lestrade continued unbidden.

"No. I..."

"Your PA, Leonel Waters, told me a man matching Moriarty's description paid you a visit two days ago. If he is not your colleague, Ms. Oswald, why would he come to you?"

Clara swallowed the lump in her throat, slowly shaking her head. "I don't know." she said softly. "He may have wanted my help, but he didn't say with what. Didn't say much of anything really.."

"Funny, Leonel was under the impression Moriarty was your boyfriend." Lestrade replied with a scoff.

"Well he isn't." Clara told him.

Lestrade studied Clara closely. "Nah I didn't think so...what about Harold Saxton?" he pressed.

"What about him? Dead isn't he?" Clara said aloofly, knowing full well the Master was back.

Lestrade stared at him, and Clara stared ruthlessly back. Maintaining eye contact, Lestrade gripped the briefcase he brought into the room, withdrawing a laptop from within it. Clara's confusion mounted, her wonderment growing with each passing second as Lestrade turned on the laptop and fiddled with it a moment. Before Clara could address him, Lestrade had maneuvered the laptop so its screen was facing Clara. It displayed a surveillance shot of Clara's living room, where James Moriarty and The Master, each casually dressed, appeared to be sipping tea and silently conversing among themselves. Clara's mouth opened wordlessly, as she watched a doppelganger of herself enter the scene with a plate of souffles. Both men smiled, doubtlessly thanking her as she sat down between them.

"Th-That's not me..." Clara stammered, staring at her double who gleefully fed the Master while Moriarty grasped the television remote, and reclined setting the television to world news.

"So there just happens to be a woman who looks exactly like you, spending a Sunday evening in your home with two criminals believed to be dead eh?" Lestrade chuckled. "Really Ms. Oswald," Lestrade continued, snapping the laptop shut just as the Master kissed Clara's double. Lestrade's motion made Clara jump. "If you have any hope of fighting the impending 'aiding and abetting' charges, you need to be square with me." Lestrade advised.

Clara gawked in alarm. "What have they done?" she nearly whispered.

Lestrade judged that either Clara was a respectable actress, or she truly was disturbed. Clearing his throat, Lestrade grabbed the remote controller beside the tape recorder. "Several diplomatic figures from various countries, have become comatose...all within a matter of twenty-four hours. The only possible link we've made has been you...Clara Oswin Oswald, as you've repeatedly introduced yourself." Lestrade responded, activating the television tucked in the corner.

Shifting her focus to the television screen, an upbeat harmony of drums and electronics graced Clara's ears. She recognized it as a song by the Scissor Sisters – Better Luck Next Time. In several separate locations, Clara watched as her doppelganger advanced to the diplomats by flashing a badge, presumably the Doctor's physic paper which obscured the surveillance footage momentarily until she pocketed the folds of paper. Always, there was a bodyguard who escorted Oswin to the figurehead, though never the same person and always Oswin would genuinely smile and shake the hand of the diplomat she'd just met, regardless of his race or public relation. Then she'd step aside, as the bodyguard stepped forward and the face of the bodyguard transformed, causing the surveillance feedback to go haywire. When it cleared up, the bodyguard had vanished, and the diplomat was either slumped on the floor or in their chair. The smile would then resurfaced on Oswin's face, and she'd glance up at the camera. And as the footage showed Oswin smile multiple times from her various visits across the world, a close-up of Moriarty chuckling appeared closely followed by the Master mouthing along to the song, which had never stopped playing.

"I may not be able to explain what I've just seen, or how you possibly could've been in several places at once...but it's pretty clear by their snickering faces, that your cohorts have betrayed you Ms. Oswald." Lestrade told her.

* * *

The Doctor joined Mycoft at his desk, looking over his shoulder as Mycoft activated the electronic desktop at his fingertips. The feedback started with an upbeat harmony of drums and an electric guitar, coupled by a shot of Oswin dancing to the beat with the Master. The Master was grinning from ear-to-ear, staring directly at the camera. "Still listening to Scissor Sisters." the Doctor tutted, tilting his head as the camera spun around to reveal the person wielding it to be Moriarty.

Moriarty smirked slightly, his eyes shining. "You must be asking yourself Doctor_ 'Where did I go wrong? How? When?_'..." Moriarty's voice fluctuated trying to mimic the Doctor, who spoke softer and more whimsical. Moriarty took a moment to chuckle. "What you should be asking, is this – did you truly triumph last time, or did we allow ourselves to lose?

Moriarty reverted the camera, so that it showcased the Master once again. He'd stopped dancing, but the smugness still shone on his face, as he bit his the frontal arch of his knuckle. "Unthinkable. Unimaginable. Why would we possibly set ourselves up for failure?" His eyes grew wide, his jaw jutted open as he lowered his hand. Oswin giggled. "Unless of course, it was part of our plan. You needn't harm your lovely head of hair, with trying to decipher what that plan may be. We're about to show you. But first you need know Doctor - this time, Clara needn't die. That's not to say harm won't befall her, it will, it already has...but you'll find it's more of a legal demise than a mortal one." The Master gave his mesmerizing smile and winked, as the music picked up at the same instant the screen flickered, cutting straight to the footage of Oswin meeting various diplomats from various countries.

"The Great Intelligence conduits...typical Torchwood, letting them fall into enemy hands." The Doctor muttered, turning off the feed as the song ended to the laughing faces of Moriarty and the Master.

Mycoft found the mention of Torchwood intriguing, but didn't voice his interest."Should I be concerned there was no mention of Sherlock?" he asked instead.

"No, your brother's alive, incapacitated but alive. A conduit must have paid him a housecall, likely cloaked as Watson, they used to be inelaborate machinery but they're easily enough improved upon if you know how and The Master would know." The Doctor mused. "The good news is, I've told Sherlock detailed accounts of reoccurring predators that pose a threat to Earth and amongst them, the Great Intelligence. With secondhand knowledge of his predicament, it's possible Sherlock's expansive mind may allow him to break free of whatever network it is that Oswin has crafted."

"And the bad news?" Mycoft prompted.

"You've shared a copy of this with Scotland Yard, haven't you? Wanted Clara brought in, least I turn out to be a farce...which means she's been locked away.." the Doctor replied crossly.

Mycoft cast a glance at the TARDIS. "So rescue her." he retorted.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - A big thank you everyone who followed, faved and reviewed. I think this may be the second-to-last chapter though.

* * *

The television was off, but Clara stared at it anyway, her mind still churning over what she'd seen. Lestrade had left her alone in the interrogation room, under heavy surveillance, allowing her to stew in the hopes she'd give a full confession. Clara knew the Doctor would be coming for her, but what she was unsure of, was how she'd behave when he arrived. On the one hand, she should be furious, he had kept this from her, and it was a mighty big, even personal thing to keep. Then again, the Doctor did nothing without reason.

When the door opened, Clara's focus automated toward it, but the person standing in its space, beaming at her with a devilish gleam to her eye, was a stranger. He had dark spiky hair, sparkling blue-green eyes and a gray wool jacket that appeared to be from the era of world war 2. "Clara Oswald. May I comment on how gorgeous you are? Or is it too soon? The Doctor always scolds me for that." he greeted, his upbeat voice losing some of its luster at the mention of the Doctor scolding him.

"..Are you Jack Harkness? You've got to be..." Clara marveled.

"The Doctor told you about me?"

"Beyond you being an insufferable flirt? A bit, yeah."

"Well then, you should know as invigorating as an interrogation room is, what with the possibility of being restrained and observed, I'm here to bail you out. UNIT and Torchwood aren't always friendly, but since I was in the neighborhood, I volunteered." Jack assessed Clara's inquiring stare as she rose from her seat. "Alright, I insisted." Jack confessed, leaning his weight against the door. "Been dying to see the Doctor again...and to behold, the next beauty he'd have alongside him." His sheepish smile, turning suave as Clara approached him.

"Is the Doctor with UNIT?" Clara asked.

Jack nodded. "The way I hear it, he's currently in the company of a sleeper cell agent named Mycroft Holmes." he answered.

"Have they found Sherlock?" Clara pressed.

"Sherlock?" Jack repeated, stalling to the stop the same instant as Clara. A familiar whirl had graced the silent hallway, as the TARDIS appeared behind them.

The Doctor stepped out at a quick pace, surprise flickering across his features. "Hello Harkness. Been a long while, hasn't it?" he acknowledged. Jack's mouth was slightly ajar, his eyes brighter than ever. "What? Why are you...oh yes, new face. Younger, fuller hair...I get quite a lot of flack for my chin though, I'd much appreciate it if you didn't speak of it at all, I'm developing a complex." he continued with a half-hearted grin. Jack's response was both flirty and flattering, but the Doctor's attention was seared onto a discretely seething Clara.

"Why didn't you tell me? Sherlock wanted to warn me about Oswin, but you wouldn't let him. Why the secrecy?" Clara demanded.

The Doctor debated being subtle, but he swiftly decided the impending threat of the Master and Moriarty was more precedent than Clara's feelings. "Because after Oswin murdered you, I killed her." the Doctor said, his tone curving into a snarl. Clara was taken aback, as the Doctor knew she would be. "What happened in the previous time-line is irrelevant. The Great Intelligence conduits are a bluff, there's something more the Master has planned, we need to figure out what that is, before it's too late."

The Doctor and Clara were staring at each other, in a way they had only ever once stared at each other before. Inside the core of the TARDIS. Anguish and fear clotted their faces.

Clearing his throat, Jack broke the standstill. "I hope you're including me in this 'we' Doctor." he spoke up.

"If you'd like Harkness, I won't turn away help. I am down a Holmes, although the close-minded one still remains." The Doctor mused, advancing into the TARDIS, knowing that Clara and Jack would follow. "I'll drop you off with Mycroft and what I need you two to do is collect every diplomat the conduits have paid a visit to. Use a UNIT facility, UNIT resources if need be, Clara has top clarence, she can handle cracking Oswin's network . _**No**_, Jack, I don't want to hear a word about Torchwood, it's obvious someone within your organization is working for Moriarty. Can't risk that person tipping them off." The Doctor rambled, activating the TARDIS.

"What will you be doing?" Clara asked softly, her arms bound her.

For a moment, the Doctor merely looked at her. His anguish had faded, but traces of apprehenison lined her face. "Drawing out the Master." he announced.

* * *

Safely tucked in his mind palace, Sherlock paced to and fro. His small band of onlookers consisting of the Doctor and Clara sitting on one side of the enclosure and Moriarty, Oswin and the Master standing opposite, watched every movement. Every flutter of Sherlock's jacket, every grimace and leer as his gaze darted between the two groups. "..There's something more afoot...what, what is it?!" Sherlock agitatedly wondered aloud.

"This is hopeless isn't it?" Clara murmured to the Doctor, a sigh rolling off the end of her words.

As the Doctor solemnly nodded, Oswin addressed Clara from across the room. "You know it is!" she giggled, though her voice was toneless. "He can't break free of the network, it isn't designed that way." she said, crossing her arms.

Sherlock slowly paused, his hand frozen mid-way down his jowl. His thoughts began to scribble the air around him. Network. Design. What also materialized, was 'BEGMAW' - Moriarty's daunting message from the previous time-stream which translated to 'Behind Every Great Man, A Woman'. While erasing that timeline, Sherlock and the Doctor had reflected upon 'BEGMAW' as a jeer regarding Clara's death and replacement by Oswin, who had helped the Master and Moriarty remain several leagues ahead of them.

In the here and now of Sherlock's mind palace, Moriarty spoke. "Clever birds are keen to the swarthiest of bird-watchers." he quoted, staring intently at his cellphone. "My text, remember Sherly Locks? Shortly before you were merged with the network..."

"How _egotistical_ of you to presume that was directed at you." The Master tutted with an all knowing smile, that bore ill precedent.

Sounding bored, Oswin recited "Run you clever boy and remember." which Clara echoed at precisely the same time.

Sherlock's head swung back and forth between the two parties. "The text was about the Doctor...not clever, not running...being watched leisurely...BEGMAW..." he mused.

The Doctor arose from his sofa, as the harsh sound of drums pierced the air. "Oswin killed Clara not only as allow an advantage to her cohorts, but to preserve the fabric of time. **Think** Holmes. Now here they are," The Doctor pointed at Moriarty and the Master. "attempting world domination again, but Clara is safe. It's not simply because I stole her away, is it?"

_ "_No." Sherlock agreed. "Oswin is not Oswin..." Sherlock concluded, staring at the wording of 'network' and 'design' which still clung in mid-air. "...but a queen bee for the conduits. A Teselecta, which means my physical body is aboard it now, my consciousness inserted into its mainframe, refigured as they saw fit."

"Now you know just how futile your attempts at breaking out have been." The Master congratulated.

"Your freedom would rely on the entire Teselecta being compromised." Moriarty grinned.

"I'm not going to let that happen." Oswin announced.

"My freedom is forfeit, but the Doctor..." Sherlock pondered, turning his back to the trio of doom to face the Doctor.

The Doctor smiled grimly. "Will be joining you shortly Holmes...in a matter of speaking."

Sherlock frowned. "You're a timelord. Advance though the Teselecta model is, containing the essence of your kind would be a gamble, one neither Moriarty nor the Master would be willing to bet on."

"There was more to me dying Sherlock." Clara piped, also rising from the TARDIS colored sofa. "Trenzalore...the time winds of the Doctor's time-stream. I was at its heart."

Sherlock gave half a nod, responding. "Clara wasn't outright murdered, she was an instrument, a gauge for the Teselecta, the Teselecta they intend to trap the Doctor within. There are two, there must be - one for me and whomever else they perceive to be a threat, Watson, Mycroft, Torchwood, UNIT, etc and one specially crafted for the Doctor."

Glancing over his shoulder, Sherlock watched as the Master slowly raised his arms with a chuckle. "_We've won._" he declared in a soft though smug demeanor.

"No." Sherlock argued, eying the close proximity between Oswin and Moriarty. "Two narcissists, can't co-exist. Not for long, certainly not when a woman is involved. BEGM – Behind Every Great Man. You, Master, are not a man, but a timelord." Sherlock cracked a grin. "Moriarty's already conquered Earth and half a dozen worlds, why go at it again – he wouldn't, he'd be bored. Your blind disregard for humans will be your undoing Master." Sherlock concluded, reclining into the sofa. The Master glowered at Sherlock, then shifted his fury towards his allies. Oswin appeared anxious as she met the Master's gaze, but Moriarty paid neither of them any regard. His attention was slated onto Sherlock, a smirk twisting on Moriarty's lips as his hand slowly, possessively clasped Oswin's wrist.

* * *

Still numbed by shock, Clara watched as the TARDIS left Mycroft's living quarters. She hadn't said goodbye to him, nor him to her. The Doctor hadn't even left the controls to make the proper introductions, he had merely opened the door and thanked Jack who had wished him good luck.

Jack gingerly touched Clara's arm, reverting her attention to him. "Are you okay?" he asked gently. Forcing a smile, Clara nodded. Her weariness was partly _for_ the Doctor, as well as toward him. Clara doubted she would ever know what happened in the previous time-line, but she knew its events were hard for the Doctor to endure.

"Ms. Oswald. And...the Torchwood lad." Mycroft greeted flatly. Clara and Jack were barely able to turn their head towards Mycroft when a curtain of energy encapsulated them. Twitching slightly inside the block of energy, Clara and Jack gawked at Mycroft who began to laugh, as his form slowly melded into a display of Oswin which in turn, began to speak like Oswin too. "What scandalous technology the Teselecta is...wouldn't you agree? A bunch of justice-driven trollops shouldn't be allowed to abuse such an amazing vessel. Oh speaking of, the real Mycroft sends his regards, Sherlock too. You know, this is the only sleepover they've had since they were tikes? Sad really. I'd extend an offer for you to join them, but we're at full capacity I'm afraid. The minds of the Holmes really do acquire a lot of bandwidth...shhh don't tell Jim I said that."

As if on cue, Moriarty strolled into the room with a laugh fumbling on his lips. "Funnily enough, she always calls me Jim when she thinks she's misbehaving." Moriarty continued walking toward the Teselecta. His voice grew soft and feminine as he stopped mere inches away from it. "..._'Jim, we mustn't...the Master'll know...'._..." With a lustful stare, Moriarty's fingertips brushed the side of Teselecta-Oswin's mouth, then he smirked and planted a kiss on its cheek. A sick feeling clawed across Clara, as she watched the Teselecta bashfully close its eyes.

* * *

A stare-off between two timelords, could quite literally last a decade, especially if those timelords shared a heated past such as the Doctor and the Master did. It was because of this, that the Master allowed himself to smile. "Doctor." he addressed simply.

"Master. What is it you want? You've already had dominion over Earth twice now, thrice if I were to count the infamous incident with the Immortality Gate, what good's a fourth time aye?" the Doctor responded.

"None whatsoever. If it weren't for the fact that you hold Earth so near and dear to your hearts, I wouldn't have bothered this time around, honest."

"...This is about me then..." "Oh yes Doctor, it is." The Master confirmed cheekily. "Look behind you."

Touching his sonic screwdriver nestled in his tweed jacket pocket, the Doctor did as the Master requested. Standing several feet behind the Doctor, was a doppelganger of the Master, which shared his same acid-lined smile. The Doctor was barely able to grasp his screwdriver when the Teselecta-Master entrapped him in a force field. The sonic screwdriver tumbled to the ground, partly extended.

The Master bent down and fetched the Doctor's screwdriver, admiring its new form. "I've always admired your tinkering." the Master complimented, pausing beside the Doctor's force field. "What do you think of _my_ tinkering Doctor? A fully remodeled self-sustaining Teselecta. Something even you couldn't have pulled off." he smirked, wagging the idle sonic screwdriver at him. Though the Doctor could do little else but meekly blink, The Master envisioned him leering, and chuckled. "It pains me to admit, I can't take all the credit. Moriarty was a great aid, and Oswin...Mm...Would you like to talk about Oswin, Doctor? How it felt when you realized you had been duped? That your dearly precious Clara had been murdered by a hollowed version of herself...must have been horrendous for you. What was it like killing Oswin? I bet it was a_ rambunctious _unity of_ justification and depression_..." The Master appropriately pouted. "I really would've preferred she be here for this, but thanks to Harkness, the plans had to change. You've _no idea_, how excited I am to able to kill him again...and again and again...I've missed him, Doctor. As I've missed you; but now I will always know where to find you, because you always be here. Just like old times...I didn't even have to wrinkle that fresh faces of yours! You're welcome."

* * *

The eyes of the Teselecta-Oswin had remained shut, and Moriarty was closely observing its face. "Can you hear me Oswin? No I thought not." Moriarty faced Clara and Jack who were remained frozen in their status fields. "I had to apply just the right amount of pressure to ignite the knock out gas. Dreadfully dangerous for Sherlock and Mycroft, they may slip into a coma." Moriarty smirked as if humbled by the thought, then lifted his wrist and prodded at a device strapped to the underside of his arm. Jack's energy field collapsed in a downward motion, rendering Jack unconscious. Clara's energy field was dampened so that she may move or speak.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Clara stammered, her voice wavering from her prolonged expose to the status field.

Moriarty's smirk emboldened. "You're the impossible girl...FIGURE IT OUT." he retorted sternly, pocketing his hands.

"...You've realized the Master will betray you, so you're striking first. But how...it's the Teselecta isn't it? You're going to use it to entrap the Master like you did Sherlock and the rest...because it's already been refigured, further advanced - the Master was going to capture the Doctor, but you're going to use his own trap against him."

"...Sherlock would've been more elaborate, even under distress...but _you've a passing grade Ms. Oswald._" Moriarty replied coyly, deactivating her force field. Clara staggered slightly, then knelt to check on Jack. "In approximately 1 minute and 45 seconds, this Teselecta's networking will power down to compensate for the inclusion of the Master. Were Oswin awake, she would've tended to the rendering."

"But she'd have known it was the Master..." Clara piped. "She's loyal...what makes you think she'll ever forgive you for this?"

"She'll have no choice. The Timelord-Teselecta is a one-way portal. Regeneration would cause the Teselecta to collapse in on itself." Moriarty responded, tapping at his wrist device again to deactivate the force field holding Jack. The release of energy startled Jack awake, and as his bleary eyes blinked, he caught sight of the vortex manipulator strapped to Moriarty's opposite wrist. His words clogged in his chest, Jack raised his arm to point, but by the time Clara whipped her head around, Moriarty was gone.

* * *

A raspy gasp soared from Mycroft's mouth, as his eyes flew open. His back aching and his head pounding, Mycroft sat up clenching his palm to his temple. His surroundings were brazenly unfamiliar, but there was one object he was atoned to. Sitting in front of a bizarre switchboard, was his brother Sherlock seemingly at ease as he tapped at a button. "Is this the TARDIS?" Mycroft asked.

"No, this is a Teselecta, a time traveling vessel capable of disguising itself as a human and storing boundless knowledge, though it's been refigured to store energy instead, such as souls or dare I say, the essence of a Timelord. We were wired into its networking mainframe, now it appears that network has shut down." Sherlock explained.

"Then the diplomats..." Mycroft began.

"Freed. They were little else but bait." Sherlock interrupted.

Mycroft shuffled to his feet, casting an uneasy glance at his surroundings. "How do we disband from this 'vessel'?" he asked.

"Already determined how." Sherlock answered astutely.

"Than what are we still doing here?" Mycroft pressed, an annoyed edge to his tone.

"I was assessing the likelihood of you being frozen in a comatose state, while also attempting to locate the conduits that uploaded us to the Teselecta." Sherlock replied.

While Mycroft leered at his brother in contempt, the Doctor's voice rang out. "Hello Holmes, can you hear me? Course you can, I need you to exit the Teselecta now. UNIT has come to secure it. If you're searching for some vast secrets to the universe, you can forget it, the knowledge banks have been wiped clean - a parting gift from Moriarty." the Doctor told him.

"You let Moriarty escape?" Sherlock asked, allowing each word to carry the exasperation he felt.

"Oi no I...look I am not going to continue speaking to you like this Holmes, come out _**now**_!" the Doctor retorted shortly.

Sherlock ceased the speaker connection and flicked its control out of his grasp, staring haughtily straight ahead. Mycroft prompted. "Sherlock."

"This isn't over." Sherlock tutted.

* * *

Oswin brought her knees closer to her chin, peeking out at the circumference of the world from the cover of an orange lowly hanging tree that seemed to bear twig-like fruit. Oswin sensed Moriarty's presence even before he spoke. "For someone so clever, you hide so foolishly." Oswin wanted to tell him to go away, but she knew it would do no good. "Must you revel in the cliché? Sulking isn't going to bring the Master back Oswin." Moriarty continued.

It was then that a smile creased Oswin's lips. "But he will be back..." she whispered, loud enough for Moriarty to hear. Moriarty lifted the tree branches to observe her. "Regeneration won't destroy the Teselecta. I lied." she confessed with a smirk.

Rather than appear distraught or en-angered, Moriarty also smirked. "I know." he replied, transforming Oswin's triumphant stare into a weary grimace. "You're hollow not heartless, you never wanted the Doctor to be damned, you only wished him to feel even an ounce of what you've felt all these decades -_ trapped, alone, lost._" he simpered.

"If you knew the Master had an escape route, why would you betray him?" Oswin asked.

"Because I programmed the Teselecta to erase his memory upon regeneration. You'll be forgotten Oswin, which raises the question – is that worse than having never been acquainted at all?" Moriarty pondered. Hurt swelled in Oswin's core, as she stood. "There's no need to overact Oswin, it was inevitable that he forget you. He's a Timelord, what are you? _Not even a whole person_." he jeered. Oswin's palm collided with Moriarty's jaw. A rough laugh cascaded from his throat. "I'm not hurling insults Oswin, I'm stating facts. There's a void in you, just as there's a void in me."

"...The Master understood that better than anyone. He..." Oswin began.

"Left you to die at the hands of the Doctor." Moriarty interrupted. Oswin shook her head in disbelief. "Denial changes nothing. The Master holds no value for you, anymore than he does for me. We don't need him, to face the drums Oswin."

"...I don't need you either Jim." Oswin stated.

* * *

A/N - I would've loved to wrap the story up, but considering I couldn't perfect Moriarty's response, nor could I write more without making Oswin sound OOC, I think it's safe to say my inspiration fizzled.


End file.
